


I Was Lost, but Then Found

by Britishfetishbisexual



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Fluffy Smut, John - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Parentlock, Post TFP, Rosie - Freeform, Sherlock - Freeform, TJLC, lesbian original characters, maybe not, maybe smut, watson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10099688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Britishfetishbisexual/pseuds/Britishfetishbisexual
Summary: After the chaos of TFP, John and Sherlock have to get used to ordinary life again, as well as each other. After a confusing and erratic series of murders take place, a new friend brings to light the answer to the murders, as well as the problems within the hearts of John and Sherlock.(Fluffiest fluff ever-both with Johnlock and OCs)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any characters in this story, aside from Adaline Merthur and Lily Craven. If I did own Sherlock, Johnlock would have become canon ages ago

CHAPTER ONE

"BAM!!"

         John sat up in his bed panting and cried out with a shout of pain. When he realized it was just a dream, his hysteria only increased as he pulled the sheets of his bed up to his face and started sobbing into them. The sobs woke little Rosie in her crib, and she started wailing. Her loud wails failed to disturb her broken father as he cried, oblivious to all. Her godfather, however, heard the cries of both.

         Footsteps were heard coming up the steps in a hurry, and a distressed Sherlock rushed into the room, grabbing wailing Rosie from her crib and rushing over to John, where wrapped one arm around him and held him close. He rocked him back and forth, whispering into his hair.

"It's ok, I'm here. You're alright. It was a dream, ok? Just a dream. I am right here and I'm not leaving."

After John's sobs became softer and his shaking form became still, Sherlock gently pulled his arm away from John and carried Rosie back to her crib where she fell asleep as Sherlock hummed a lullaby and smoothed her hair out with his thin pale fingers. Once Rosie was safely dreaming, Sherlock made his way over to John's bed and sat down next to the broken man.

Gingerly, Sherlock placed his hand onto John's back and started rubbing it. The gentle movement caused John to curl up to a surprised Sherlock who pulled him in with both arms and cradled him. John's shaking hands pulled Sherlock's grey t-shirt to his face and started sobbing into it.

After a while, once John had calmed down a bit, Sherlock reluctantly released his arms from around John, knowing it was wrong to want to hold him like that forever. Knowing that even if he did keep his hold on John, John would only be like this for so long, and after his spell passed, John would race out of Sherlock's arms with an adamant "not gay". Lifting his head off John's, Sherlock sighed with a sad smile and started to move off of the bed.

"No!"

Sherlock froze, his heart racing. His mind tried to calculate anything he did wrong. John continued, stumbling over his words,

"I mean please....can you....would you....if you wouldn't....mind...stay?"

As John looked up at Sherlock, he only saw those crystal eyes that reflected everything, and that almost hid all emotion. John could almost always know exactly what Sherlock was really feeling, not what was realistically portrayed on his face. Now, the eyes were clouded, and almost....thankful. John didn't know what to think, but then a smile graced those beautiful cupid lips and Sherlock looked directly into John's eyes.

"I will never leave you. Never again. When you want me to stay, I'll stay. When you want me to go, I'll stay anyway. I will be here for you, you and Rosie, until the end of time."

John smiled sadly, somehow knowing that that couldn't be true, but wishing it anyway, and they wrapped their arms tightly around each other, leaning up against the head board of the bed. As their hearts were beating in sync, and their smiles were only for each other, they drifted off into a peaceful, warm sleep.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

A warm, golden light filtered through the gauzy curtains. A peaceful silence was broken only by a gentle mingled breathing, and the heartbeat in John's ear.

He slowly gained consciousness but kept his eyes closed. He could feel thin, strong arms wrapped around him and long spindly legs intertwined with his short stocky ones. His head was resting on a bony rib cage from whence he could hear a steady heartbeat. What had happened slowly came back to John as he realized who he was curled up with. He realized that, surprisingly, this was not uncomfortable and embarrassing, that it was actually peaceful, and calming.

As he moved a little, the heartbeat in his ear started increasing and served as a gentle alarm to wake up. He opened his eyes and looked up to see the startling eyes of Sherlock that looked like the swirling northern lights gazing down at him with some gentle expression. Once Sherlock realized that John was awake, a slight flush brushed his cheeks and he looked off a little.

"You fell asleep and I didn't want to wake you, so I didn't move. I hope you're better this morning?" Sherlock said as he hurriedly removed his arms from John and untangled their legs.

Sherlock cursed himself on the inside for getting so caught up in holding John that he fell asleep, and for imagining that this precious moment could be every morning.

"Oh, yeah. It's no big deal. I'm sorry about all that. It's just.....never mind." John said with a sigh, suddenly missing the warmth that had enveloped him before. Shaking it off, he reasoned that there was no logical reason as to why a completely straight man would want his best friend and flat mate to be holding him. That just didn't happen.

"I'll go fix some waffles. Rosie will wake up soon," Sherlock said gruffly as he hurried out the door and down the stairs, anxious to remove the flush from his face and the increased heartbeat from his chest. He grabbed the waffle iron and the mix and started getting it all together. He opened the cabinet and pulled out a stack of dishes and started walking over to the table.

Biting his lip, he mentally prepared himself for John's entrance into the kitchen from the side door as he heard the soft footsteps pad down the stairs, and a gentle yawn.

"Good morning," John said in a rough voice. He looked around awkwardly as he tried not remember what it was like to have those long arms wrapped around him again, and tried to stop wanting it.

John's final realization of his confusing feelings had started with a hug. Several months ago, John had confessed all that had happened with the lady in the bus and how he had basically cheated with her on Mary. He was broken and weak, and in that one moment, everything changed. Sherlock, never one for any kind of affection, had stood up from his chair and held John as he fell apart. Sherlock rubbed John's neck and back, and whispered words of comfort into his hair.

In that one, simple moment, John realized things. He realized that he was thinking of Sherlock in a way that was not normal. It was not normal for him to want to be entwined with Sherlock every morning. It was not normal to want to just sit and smile at Sherlock. The slow burning love for this man had been growing since day one, and it was all finalized in John's mind after the hug, and all that came after.

The man occupying John's thoughts suddenly dropped the stack of plates with a loud crash and cried out as they landed on his foot and shattered on the floor. Not thinking, he tried to move but stepped on several large shards and yelled in pain again.

"Wait, stay still! I'll help," John said, running down the stairs after hopping up from his bed. He ran into the kitchen through the side door

"Stay over there John, you'll get shards in your-" here, Sherlock winced as he tried to move again.

"Stay still! I'm getting my rainboots!"John exclaimed.

He rushed down the stairs of the flat to the main door where his black wellys were sitting. Shoving his feet into them, he raced back up the stairs where Sherlock was standing in the midst of the broken shards, a small puddle of blood pooling beneath his feet as his eyes were squeezed shut and a grimace was plastered across his face.

John walked across the plates and said "Hop on my back!"

"I'm not going to get on your back! I am perfectly fine, I'll just walk across the glass."

"Oh be reasonable! You're not walking across glass! Just get on my back you bloody git!"

"No, John. I'm staying right here. I can do it on my own," Sherlock said. He, for some strange reason, just didn't want to get too close to John, and he didn't want to get on his back. That was too close.

John sighed an exasperated sigh and slid one arm around Sherlock's back and bent down to wrap the other around his legs.

"John! What on Earth are you doing! Put me down!"

John started laughing as he struggled to hold the tall man. Righting himself, he was now holding Sherlock bridal style. Stumbling around, he carried Sherlock to the door of the kitchen where he hopped and kicked off his wellys so the porcelain shards wouldn't get strewn across the living room. Walking through the living room, he started skipping to the couch, causing Sherlock to wrap his arms around John's neck and scream out,

"JOHN WATSON PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW"

By this point, John couldn't speak he was laughing so hard. Tears of laughter streamed down his face as Sherlock started panicking once John began to dance around, swooping Sherlock's head dangerously close to the floor. When he was finally at the couch, he gallantly laid Sherlock down, where Sherlock proceeded to give John a fierce tirade on how not to kill someone. John collapsed on the floor in laughter, and after Sherlock started losing his breath talking, he stared at John for a minute and burst in to laughter. Knocking his head back, Sherlock laughed as if he hadn't a care in the world, and as if there weren't several large shards of porcelain stuck into his feet.

The two men looked at each other and grinned, the humor of the whole scene replaying in their heads. The mischievous grin soon turned into a soft smile that was too sweet, too soon, and then both men quickly tried to regain their "manliness" with a quick clearing of the throat and a straightening of the back and shoulders.

"Let me go get my bag, I have what I need to fix your foot. Don't mess with it!" John said hurrying up to his room and coming down with his black emergency bag.

Sherlock had closed his eyes and gone into his mind palace mode. Not wanting to disturb him overmuch, John moved quietly grabbed some tweezers, astringent, and gauze. He gently pulled all the bloody pieces of glass out of Sherlock's feet and then dabbed hydrogen peroxide across the wounds. The sharp pain caused by the burning peroxide caused Sherlock to jerk out of his mind palace.

"John! What on earth are you doing?"

"I'm cleaning your very severe wounds? What do you think? These are bad! If I didn't know how much you hated hospitals, then you would be in the ER right now," John said.

"Hmph," snorted Sherlock as he closed his eyes again.

John wondered why Sherlock's capabilities had been hampered recently. Nothing was any more odd on a "normal" scale, but Sherlock had almost been acting "normal" recently and it puzzled John. He missed the curt and extravagant man who barely noticed anything along the lines of human emotion, but he still wanted the emotional and caring Sherlock that had recently emerged. There was no real and plausible reason behind it, except that maybe helping raise Rosie caused him to have a higher maturity and level of responsibility. However, John suspected that this was not the reason, at least not all of it.

"John? Hello? What are you thinking?" Sherlock said in a confused but almost concerned voice. John realized that his face must have been scrunched into a rather disturbing and somewhat scary expression.

"Oh, nothing. Let me finish wrapping your feet and I'll go get Rosie. She should to be up by now."

After bandaging Sherlock's feet, John raced upstairs to regain his breath. After dressing Rosie, he changed out of his T-shirt and sleeping pants into some fresh clothes. He berated himself for getting so caught up with Sherlock and he brushed it off as he walked down the stairs and prepared to start the day.


	2. Chapter Two

"Are you ready?"

John's gaze landed on Sherlock before he made one final check of the stuff in Rosie's diaper bag and handed it over to Mrs. Hudson. Walking towards Sherlock, John said,

"Alright, I'm good. Where are we going?"

"Tempest Street." Sherlock said, pushing the door open and walking out into the street. "Visiting the best friend of a young woman whose body was found in an alleyway earlier this morning. The friend is an invalid, and is paralyzed from the waist down. She usually just stays in bed all day. According to Lestrade, the two women were fairly close, and the dead woman was the only friend of the invalid. Apparently they had also not seen each other for several months. Adaline Merthur is the name of the woman we are visiting," Sherlock rattled off with his usual avoidance of sentiment. 

"What was the condition of the body?" John asked. 

"There were the usual kind of cuts and bruises from a fight, and apparently the woman had also been....taken advantage of." Here Sherlock grimaced a bit. "The thing that makes this so peculiar is that right on both of her collar bones were x marks cut into her skin, and she was wearing clothing that was brand new and put on her body after she had been killed. I believe that we are dealing with someone who...is almost trying too hard to make it an odd case"

"Well, maybe we'll get answers from this woman. What-" John said shifting his eyes to glance at Sherlock awkwardly just before a loud noise like the crashing of trash cans made both men jump and look in the direction of the commotion to see two men running out of an alley holding hands. One had a long tan trench coat and the other was wearing copious amounts of flannel. 

"See Cas? We shouldn't have come to England! It's different here!" Flannel yelled as he gripped Trenchie, who apparently was Cas. 

"Dean! You're an idiot! I love you but you really can sometimes not see anything!" Cas proceeded to rant as they ran past a flummoxed John and Sherlock. 

Cas was promptly shut up as Dean grabbed his face and kissed him quickly. "I may be an idiot but at least I'm your idiot! Now shut up and let's keep going!"

The two men rushed off and John and Sherlock looked baffled before awkwardly getting into a cab and pulling off. The drive was stiff and awkward for a little while, and then Sherlock started spewing some extra details about the case. 

When the cab pulled up to the fine building, the two friends got out of the car. Sherlock rushed into the building, leaving John to pay the fare. After John caught up to Sherlock, they were directed through a grand hall up to a bedroom where Sherlock knocked and pushed open the door at the same time. 

The room was large and airy, and the plethora of windows allowed a great deal of light into the room. The windows were open allowing the breeze to float through, waving the diaphanous curtains. In the corner, a small woman lay on a bed covered with plush pillows and blankets, her long, wavy hair fanned out around her, looking like a bright flame against the white of the pillows and blankets. A light flush covered her cheeks and a gentle smile graced her thin lips. Her willowy fingers were clutching a letter to her chest, stroking the edges slightly. As soon as Sherlock entered, her head snapped up and dark green eyes stared at him, confused. 

Sherlock felt that something was off the moment he entered the room and saw the gentle joy of the woman. This was not the face of a woman whose best friend had just been violently murdered. An unease drifted over him and he sent a glance at John, whose eyebrows were scrunched together. 

"Adaline Merthur I presume?" Sherlock said quickly. "I am Sherlock Holmes and this is my partner John Watson. We are here to ask you some questions about your friend Lily Craven."

"Oh! Is she alright? I hope she didn't get into any trouble! She just sent me a letter telling me that she would be coming home, finally. She doesn't have a cell phone," Adaline said with a light laugh. 

John and Sherlock immediately looked at each other, realizing what they had suspected, that Adaline had not been told of Lily's death. The tension was immediately raised as their eyes widened and they glanced at Adaline.

As she saw their faces, all the color left her face and her breathing started to become erratic. Her eyes opened wide with understanding and then they squeezed shut to avoid tears spilling out. 

"Miss Merthur, I'm sorry. We thought you had been informed. Miss Craven has been murdered, and we came to get some information. We had no idea that you were not aware of her death." Sherlock said, shock still on his face. His somewhat blunt explanation was an attempt to conceal the sorrow he felt at seeing the distressed woman. 

"Oh. Oh. I understand. Could you please give me a moment? Lily was my....best....friend. I need to," She trailed off in a quivering voice that was still strong but full of raw emotion

"Yes of course! We'll just come back another time. Come on, Sherlock," John grabbed the arm of Sherlock's frozen body and started to pull him to the door. 

"Oh, you don't need to leave! I just.....need....a moment. Just wait outside....please." Her voice was starting to crack and her knuckles were white from the intensity of squeezing the letter. 

As soon as the two men were out of the room, they heard a scream that was soft, but piercing and painful beyond words. Heartbreaking sobs could be heard through the walls. Adaline could be heard wailing out Lily's name. Glancing at Sherlock, John noticed that Sherlock's face was frozen in an expression of shock. 

"Sherlock, are you alright?" John said worriedly, placing his hand on Sherlock's shoulder. 

"Adaline-she's in love with Lily. As in, deeply in romantic love. And, I don't know! Why am I so affected by this! I'm a sociopath, I don't do feelings," Sherlock said irritatedly as he buried his head in his hands. His mind reeled as it clashed with his heart. 

John smiled at Sherlock and rubbed his back. "You, Sherlock, are not a sociopath-high functioning or not. You are a human, with emotions you just hide. And because of....recent events with your sister, Mary, and Culverton, your emotions have been attacked and you are drawing back into your shell and putting walls up again. Don't do that again, please. To quote you, 'I have the horrible suspicion that at times, we are all human' And that applies to you too." John smiled at Sherlock. "You don't have to hide your emotions. You can still be brilliant and feeling."

Sherlock gave John a simple and gracious smile before straightening himself. Putting is mind back on the case with his usual confidence of words, he said, "Well, since Adaline was in love with Lily, this adds another level of information, or rather insight on how Lily was on a personal level. We also know that their relationship, at least the romantic side, was secret. That was evident from the way that Adaline stumbled over the words "best friend". They either were keeping their romance hidden or Adaline had not yet told Lily of her feelings and was wishing that they had somehow amended that faulty label. I believe it is the latter, shown by the wistful looks at the letter, as well as the soft finger strokes. But this also implies that we will have to tread softly, or she will cut herself off and not tell us anything." Sherlock rambled on, disappearing into his mind. 

Several minutes later, the sobbing had ceased and Sherlock and John quietly knocked on the door and walked into the room. It was strange, but somehow the entire look of the room had changed. The warm breeze no longer filled the room. The light was replaced by dull grey, and Sherlock's eyes alighted on Adaline. 

Her face had lost all colour, excepting the red circling her eyes, and she simply faded into the whiteness of her bed. The once vibrant green eyes were dulled and blank. Adaline's overall countenance was stiff and unfeeling, covering her pain. 

"I am ready to answer any questions you may have. Ask away," she said in a flat, almost sarcastic, tone. 

A slightly disgruntled Sherlock quickly regained his countenance and asked, "How did you meet Miss. Craven?"

The corners of Adaline's lips twitched with the memory, which could only be good, based off of the slight twinkle in her eye. "It was a dramatic meeting, something right out of a film....."

A/N:The next chapter should be up shortly!! I wanted to go into more depth of Adaline and Lily's story so I am devoting a chapter to their story, that way people can skip it if they want only Johnlock, which will happen but somewhat slowly because this is a SLOW BURN   
But yeah thanks for any kudos/comments!!  
:) :) :)


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